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"Gome here, you willful wench, or it will be the worse for threatened Turold, advancing on her.
"Leave my sister alone, Turold," said another voice be "G.o.dric!" Her mouth dropped open as she turned around and beheld her brother standing them, the rain running in rivulets down his s.h.a.ggy golden hair. He held his arms open and she ran to them.
"Oh, G.o.dric!" she breathed, knowing somehow from the swift smile he gave her that he could be trusted to help her.
After that quick smile, though, his expression grew hard and cold as he turned his attention back to Turold.
"Nay, you shall not touch her, not now. She will stay with me until your audience with the king tomorrow, and then we shall " Stand aside, G.o.dric.
She's my betrothed. You know I have the right,"
bl.u.s.tered Turold, shaking his fist at G.o.dric.
Would her brother surrender her to Turold's supposed claim?
"G.o.drie, I'm not--he's not" -- she stammered. Her eyes flew from one man's angry face to the other. G.o.dric's hand went meaningfully to the scamasax, the short, one-edged sword at his hip.
"I have said she will be with me until your audience with the king, Turold,"
he repeated, and Aldyth saw that his eyes held Turold's until the other man looked down.
"Very well, then. Until tomorrow," Turold snarled, glaring at Aldyth.
"But after I tell Rufus what I know, her lover will die if he hasn't already, and she will be but one of the things the king gives me out of grat.i.tude."
He strode off, leaving Aldyth s.h.i.+vering.
He had called her a thing. That was all she was to him-- les than a dog that must be brought to heel. Holy Mary, his boasts made it sound as though he had learned about Ranulf's secret loyalty to Prince Henry! How was that possible?
But she had to forget about Turold and his threats, at least for the moment.
Ranulf was critically, perhaps even mortally wounded. She must go to him.
Her eyes stinging with tears, she raised her head from within the comforting circle of her brother's arms.
"G.o.dric, I must be with Ranulf. I must know... please, there will be time for explanations later, but now I must know if he lives!"
Her brother met her gaze, his own eyes troubled, but he seemed to sense her desperate need.
"All right, sister. I will go with you."
She took off at a run, and he followed. Moments later they were within the king's tent, where an aged, white-bearded man was bent over Ranulf's still form. Urse stood by, his brow furrowed with worry. She caught a glimpse of Ranulf's face, so pale it was the color of the sheet on which he lay.
"Does he... is he..." She could not form the words. "He lives, but barely,"
the king's physician said.
"Who are you?"
She glanced at G.o.drie, then avoided his gaze as she answered,
"I am Lord Ranulf's wife."
She could feel her brother's start of surprise but ignored it.
"Will he..."
physician was studying her boyish clothes and short hair but evidently decided it was none of his concern, for he answered her incomplete question.
"Will he live? I know, for 'tis in G.o.d's hands now, but I have cauterthe wound and he is no longer hemorrhaging." He the iron rod that lay on the ground at his feet. She an instant image of the physician heating it in the outside the tent, then carrying it in, its end glow and touching it to her beloved's flesh. Now what she had smelled she the of 1 flesh.
"Aye, 'tis fortunate he was insensible at the time, for the agony would have been terrible, but he would have bled to death else," the ph sician told her bluntly.
"Now only time will tell. He will need to be kept warm and fed liquids as soon as he wakes enough to swallow. I will leave a vial of tincture of poppy with you, young woman, for the pain, but you must take care only to let him have a drop or two every few hours. Too much could be fatal."
Aldyth nodded soberly. She would be strong for Ranulf. She must.
Afternoon faded into evening without Aldyth noticing the change. She sat by Ranulf's pallet, her eyes never leaving his face, her hand going every so often to his chest to make sure he still breathed. His chest rose so slightly. And then, still unconscious, he began to groan. He was not yet awake enough to be safely given the poppy juice. As tears slipped silently down her cheeks, she grasped his hand in hers, willing him to live, praying to G.o.d and whatever saint might be listening to relieve his pain. G.o.dfie and Urse tried to get her to take some supper, but she waved it away. She was not hungry. How could she eat, while her beloved hurt so?
It was perhaps midnight before he woke enough to be given the poppy juice, and she managed to drip some precious drops of water down his throat before he slept. His eyes had opened and he had blinked at her, his gaze unfocused.
She wasn't sure he knew her.
Two hours later, his forehead was as hot as the brazier Urse had lit within the tent. Now she used the water to bathe his forehead and then his entire body, weeping as she saw the ugly burn where the wound had been cauterized.
The physician had left an unguent for the burn with directions to reapply it at intervals. He had also left a jar filled with a distillation of willow bark for the fever he predicted 271 come, and this she gave him, drop by drop, when he stirred again.
Finally, toward dawn, beads of sweat broke out on Ranulf's forehead and he slept, soundly and peacefully. Was it her imagination, or was his pallor reduced ever so slightly? Ursa went outside, his eyes suspiciously moist, and did not return for several minutes.
G.o.dric, who had been doz/ng, woke then and joined her at Ranulf's side.
"He looks better, Aldyth," he told her.
She sagged against her brothefts chest, tears of relief and weariness streaking down her cheeks. She was not imagining it. He was better. He was going to live! But for how long, after Turold spoke to the king? She shuddered.
"Don't worry, Aldyth. I won't let you fall into Turold's hands, no matter what happens," G.o.dric said, mistaking her thoughts.
"Oh, G.o.dric," she sighed.
"Turold's eyes are so cruel. I have ever thought I could wed him and be " We were both deceived, Aldyth. I never guessed. I have much to regret, sister.
You did not feel you could come to and you were right--I would not have believed he was Not only that, but I helped him hunt you. " He head.
"Can you ever find it in your heart to for she told him, and hugged him, savoring the strength that seemed to flow from his ma.s.sive body. He had filled out since she had last seen had been a slender, rebellious youth. Now he was " G.o.dtic" she began, reluctant to shatter the feeling of closeness, but he must know the truth.
"We were both mistaken about Ranulf, too."
She felt him stiffen slightly, but he kept his arms around her.
"He is a good man, G.o.dtic, even if he is a Norman. You can believe that, can't you? You're fighting for the king.
Surely you have learned there are good Normans. " Aldyth edged out of his embrace. She needed to see his face, to see his reaction to her words. She looked up at her brother, willing him to believe her.
At last he nodded warily.